


things we're all too young to know

by tea_the_turtleduck



Category: Glee
Genre: Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_the_turtleduck/pseuds/tea_the_turtleduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes on Brittany and Santana's childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. k is for —

**Author's Note:**

> _Loosely based on the first part of Oscar Serquina’s “Notes on a Memory.”_

Santana hadn’t exactly planned on staying in the classroom after the classes have ended because, duh, who would want to stay any longer than they had to in school? But Brittany insisted that sneaking around after school hours would be loads of fun.

__

“We’d be like private eyes, or—or ghostbusters!”

__

When Santana saw the light in those watery-blue eyes, she couldn’t find it in herself to refuse. In fact, she hadn’t ever been good at saying no to Brittany and it wasn’t just because Brittany was her best—and, well, only—friend. Brittany just seemed to have that natural effect on people, to make them say yes to whatever it was that caught her fancy. Remembering this, Santana felt just a teensy bit special that Brittany chose her to share in this adventure, and when she mumbled _Okay,_ what she really meant was _Of course, anything for you_.

__

__

So that was how two seven-year-olds wearing matching red backpacks came to prowl along the deserted hallways after school hours, ducking behind pillars and turning around corners whenever they heard footsteps, imagined or not. Despite herself, Santana felt more than a little giddy, hiding around and hunting for poltergeists and clues to missing fictional people. At first, she let Brittany weave the stories of who or what they were looking for, but Brittany being Brittany, she had spun herself a web of multiple personages with brightly-colored back stories—and her thoughts got tangled along the way.

__

Santana just smiled and held on tightly to Brittany’s hand as she carefully catalogued in her head the characters that she could remember.

__

“Look, San! There are two hairpins outside the Geography classroom! I think we’re hot on the trail of Mrs. O’Donnell!”

__

Santana scrunched up her nose. “I think you mean Mrs. O’Hara. Mrs. O’Donnell is the one who hired us to spy on her dog.”

__

Brittany paused. “Why are we after Mrs. O’Hara again?”

__

“Because she took the magical weave that could grant the wearer any hair-related wish,” Santana answered, smiling.

__

“Oh, right! And she’s going to use the magical weave to wish everybody else to go bald because people had been teasing her for her red hair.”

__

“Yup, and on a related quest, we’re also looking for Mr. Ruffles, the Ginger Cat, to convince her that being a redhead ain’t so bad.”

__

“Right, right!” Brittany grinned. She squeezed Santana’s hand. “And that is why you’re my partner, Inspector Lopez!”

__

Santana rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to build me up.”

__

“Buttercup baby?” asked Brittany innocently, though there was a wily gleam in her eyes.

__

Santana pressed her lips together to not take Brittany’s bait. “Do we take the hairpins, or we leave them here?”

__

Brittany pouted at Santana but eventually turned back to the clues they had found. “I say we leave them here, just in case Mrs. O’Hara comes looking for them.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and frowned. “We can’t have her knowing we’re closing in on her.”

__

Santana nodded solemnly in agreement. “Okay then, where do we go next?”

__

Brittany was about to say something when they heard footsteps heading their way. They both froze for a moment, looking at each other with wide eyes. Brittany snapped out of it first, and with quick cat-like reflexes, she dragged Santana into an empty classroom, the door to which was still unlocked.

__

When the footsteps have rounded up to the hallway, at the spot where they had been, they were both already safely inside the classroom, holding their breaths. Only when the footsteps died away did they permit themselves to relax and slump on the floor.

__

Santana’s heart was still racing from all the excitement and she took a few more minutes to calm herself. Brittany, on the other hand, had bounded off to a corner in the classroom, looking over the workbooks stacked there.

__

“Brittany?” Santana whispered, walking towards her with careful, quiet steps. When she was finally beside her, Santana saw that what Brittany had been looking at were math workbooks. She screwed up her face in disgust. She turned to Brittany. “Let’s go?”

__

But Brittany just pulled her left backpack strap over her shoulder until her bag was in front of her. She dug into the front pocket and fished out three crayons—red, green and purple. She tucked two of them behind her ears while she held on to the purple one.

__

“Britt, what are you doing?” Santana hissed as Brittany opened one workbook with one hand and her other hand poised over it, holding the crayon.

__

Brittany turned to her with a smile. “I’m going to make them pretty.”

__

“What?”

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“Math makes everybody sad and gloomy. Colors make everything better. So if I color these workbooks, people would be happier while doing math.” Brittany nodded to herself, impressed with her logic.

__

“Brittany, no!” Santana’s heart raced once again in her chest as she realized what this could mean; it was one thing to sneak around school after hours and quite another to vandalize workbooks. They would get caught for sure and their parents would be called up and—

__

Footsteps resounded on the hallway again, getting nearer, louder. In a fit of panic, Santana let out a small shriek.

__

Which was immediately cut off when Brittany tugged her closer, and pressed her mouth against hers, soft yet firm, warm and damp. 

__

Santana blinked a few more times, not sure what was happening, only that she could hear her blood pounding in her ears, drowning out the footsteps, and that Brittany was close to her, so close she could count the freckles dusting the bridge of nose.

__

When Brittany finally pulled back, Santana still didn’t know what just happened. 

__

“What was that?” she asked stupidly.

__

“You were about to scream so I had to keep you quiet,” said Brittany, shrugging.

__

Santana, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest, stuttered, “Y-You could’ve just covered my mouth with your hand.”

__

“My hands are all crayon-y.” Brittany lifted up her hands to prove her point. In the dim light, Santana couldn’t exactly tell if she was telling the truth. But as her breathing started to even out, she found herself not caring much really if it was or it wasn’t.

__

She just stood there, her lips still tingling, as Brittany doodled on the workbooks.

__


	2. e is for —

The summer rain was as unexpected as the downpour was heavy. It was actually Brittany’s idea to go into the woods that resulted in them being caught in the rain, but Santana would rather blame the weather.

They had been frolicking in the woods, living out their fantasies of a kingdom inhabited by friendly tree-giants and mysterious wood-nymphs when a shadow draped itself all around them. What had been a clear blue sky suddenly turned into a dark heavy mass of gray clouds.

“Let’s go back,” Santana whispered, carefully keeping the frightened note out of her voice.

But Brittany just laughed and moved away from the shade of the trees and out into the open field, meeting the raindrops as they started to fall. Santana just watched for a few minutes as Brittany danced and twirled and giggled with the rain, looking like the very wood-nymph they had been seeking the acquaintance of. Her sunshine-gold hair had turned darker, now an august shade of sunlight with streaks of night. Rivulets ran down her face, her arms, like liquid crystal ornaments.

Brittany paused and turned to Santana. “Come on, San,” she said, holding out her hand.

Santana, who had managed to keep herself dry by sticking close to the trunk of the tree and letting the thick foliage protect her, hesitated for a moment before making her way to Brittany with slow, careful steps. She flinched as the first raindrops touched her skin, unfamiliar with the cold after the comfortable warmth from earlier. She paused in her steps, thinking of the wisdom of getting drenched in the rain when she saw Brittany watching her, a smile on her lips.

And that was all the invitation that Santana ever needed.

She quickened her pace, almost running towards Brittany, as if she could ever outrun the raindrops falling all around them. Brittany laughed and grabbed Santana’s hands. She leaned back a little and started spinning them around, forming a mini-tornado at the heart of the woods. Santana laughed along with her, as she let herself be swept away, getting dizzier and dizzier with every moment.

When finally they slumped down on the grassy ground, lightheaded yet still laughing, the rain had started to increase in intensity. They could barely see their surroundings beyond the gray curtain nor hear anything apart from the roar of the downpour, and for a moment, Santana was afraid she was drowning.

But then she heard a giggle and she turned her face towards Brittany, squinting her eyes to see even more clearly. Brittany had her face turned towards the sky, not mindful of the raindrops falling harsher than before. It was as if she didn’t find it difficult to breathe, unlike Santana who was struggling to keep the water from entering her nose. But really, Santana should have known; Brittany was a child of nature, from the same mold of wood-nymphs and mermaids.

Despite the chill in her bones and the almost-drowning feeling, Santana stayed where she was, letting Brittany’s laughter anchor her where it was safe. It was only when the ground beneath them began to soften that Brittany sat up and said, “Our clothes are muddy.”

Sure enough, when Santana looked at herself, she saw mud stains on her sleeves and behind her shoulders (and she suspected the rest of her back, too). She gulped as she remembered her mami’s vicious hatred against dirt and grime. Today could only end in a spanking and a time-out. Maybe no dinner, too.

Brittany watched her carefully. “We can go to my house first and clean up.”

Santana just nodded in response.

The walk to the Pierces’ house wasn’t long, but the shortest path that led to it was a muddy trail. When finally they arrived at the backyard, they were covered in brown from the waist down. They hurried towards the awning, and Brittany dug the spare key from the third flower pot sitting by the balcony. Santana just stood there, shivering, as she watched Brittany, her right hand now covered with bits of soil, fumble to unlock the door. After a few minutes, Brittany stopped and turned to Santana.

“I don’t know how to unlock the door,” she admitted, ducking her head.

Santana just stepped closer to her and took Brittany’s dirty hand in hers and guided the key to the lock and turned it until they heard a click. Brittany nudged the door open and was about to enter when Santana tugged her hand before letting go.

“We s-should c-clean ours-s-selves f-first,” said Santana through her chattering teeth.

Brittany nodded in agreement and walked right back into the rain. Santana couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that Brittany didn’t seem to be cold at all. Again, she remembered _nature’s child._ Santana watched as Brittany became cleaner though not by much.

After a minute of standing in the rain, Brittany turned towards Santana. “San?”

Santana knew she should follow suit but she was freezing and her body was winning over her brain’s logic. So she shook her head. “C-c-cold.”

Brittany tilted her head to the side for a moment, the way she usually did when she was thinking. Then she walked over to Santana and took Santana’s hands in hers, tugging her towards the backyard. Santana shook her head again, this time more vehemently. “N-no! S’c-c-cold!”

“Trust me, San.”

With that, Santana grudgingly let herself be led back to the rain. When she felt the raindrops on her skin again, she nearly wrenched her hands from Brittany’s hold. But Brittany wouldn’t let her go, not until they were in the middle of the walkway. Just when Santana was about to cry because of the cold, Brittany stepped closer to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her until their bodies were flush against each other.

Immediately, Santana forgot about the rain and the cold, her senses only registering the warmth of Brittany’s body against her. She didn’t notice her arms wrapping themselves around Brittany’s waist until Brittany spoke.

“See, if we hold each other like this, we can keep each other warm.”

Santana couldn’t find the words to say anything to that. In her mind she was thinking how staying with Brittany and abiding by her logic and whims would inevitably result in Santana’s death by pneumonia.

But, she thought with a wry smile, Brittany would make everything worth it.


	3. n is for –

The rain refused to let up.

They had been standing at the awning for a minute, their clothes dripping little puddles on the wooden floor when Santana realized that at this rate, they couldn’t ever hope to be dry enough to walk into the Pierces’ house without leaving a wet trail. 

She turned to Brittany to say as much when Brittany said, “I think we should just take off our clothes and wring them.”

Santana just blinked. Brittany, on the other hand, followed through her words. She kicked off her shoes and began tugging her shirt over her head. Santana still didn’t move when Brittany unbuttoned her shorts and pushed them down her legs. Brittany took her shirt and shorts and started twisting them until the dripping turned into a steady flow.

When Santana still didn’t make a move, Brittany paused to look at her. “Our things will dry faster this way,” she said with a smile.

Santana took one look at their surroundings, to see if anybody was around to witness two children stripping in the back porch. The words of her abuela resounded in her ears, words about propriety and modesty, but these were eventually drowned by the logic inherent in Brittany’s actions. Besides, Santana was at the point of freezing where she was too numb to feel anything or to actually care about anything.

So she followed Brittany’s actions, kicking off her shoes until they rolled over beside Brittany’s, then taking her shirt and shorts off. For a moment, she thought what a sight the both of them were, two skinny eight-year olds standing in their underwear at the back porch, wringing their wet clothes as the rain poured all around them.

After a few minutes, they both felt that they have squeezed all they can from their clothes, and Santana thought that they would put them back on.

“Let’s go in?”

And before Santana could force words out of her mouth—which was a pretty difficult task since her jaw seems to have frozen shut—Brittany had traipsed into the house, holding her bundle in her arms. Santana shook her head as she held her clothes tighter against her chest and followed suit.

The inside of the house was warmer, though not by much with the heater not turned on, and Santana soon started to regain the sensations on her body. They had gone into the bathroom in order to set down their clothes without leaving any mark. When Santana had sets hers down by the sink, Brittany took Santana’s shirt, spread it out and examined the back. She did the same with Santana’s shorts. Despite having most of the soil washed away by the rain, they still bore dirt stains. Santana shivered as she remembered the punishment she would inevitably get later for these.

“We can put them in the wash,” Brittany said in a quiet, serious voice, as if she had read what went on inside Santana’s mind.

Santana nodded, grateful more than she could ever say. They gathered their clothes again to head downstairs to the basement where the laundry area was.

When Brittany stood by the washing machine with her brows scrunched up and the corner of her mouth tucked in, Santana just mumbled, “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.” Brittany nodded and handed Santana her clothes. She made her way to the side adjacent to the machine and sat herself on top of the dryer. She watched as Santana filled the washing machine with water before depositing their clothes there. When the machine started whirling their clothes, Santana joined her on top of the dryer.

“How’d you learn to operate the washing machine? I always get confused with the knobs and what to put in first.”

Santana just shrugged. “Mami made me learn how to do it.”

Brittany nodded and they sat in silence as they waited for the alarm to go off, signalling the end of the cycle. Santana got up and drained the water before filling it up again. She grabbed a stool and clambered up to reach the box of laundry detergent on the shelf above the machine. Brittany hurried to her side, her arms wide open, ready to catch Santana in case she fell. Santana managed to get the laundry detergent without further incident. She smiled when she saw Brittany.

“Thanks,” she said, before turning back to the washing machine and carefully scooping out the detergent. When she was done, she put the box aside and started the machine again. Brittany took the box and stepped on the stool to return it to the shelf. When she was done, they both returned to the dryer.

As they sat there waiting, Santana shivered.

“I could go up and grab some dry clothes for us to wear,” said Brittany, noticing the gooseflesh on Santana’s skin.

Santana shook her head. “I’m not clean.”

Brittany gave her a skeptical look. Then she glanced down at Santana’s body. “You are.” She glanced down at her own body before looking back at Santana. “You’re as clean as I am,” Brittany declared.

Santana just stared at Brittany for a moment before shaking her head with a smile. When Santana didn’t say anything more, Brittany got up and grabbed a blanket from the pile of clean laundry beside them. She unfurled it and wrapped it around the both of them.

“Britt,” Santana protested.

“We’re cold.” Brittany snuggled closer to Santana until they were sitting skin-to-skin. “I’d just hold you again to warm you up,” Brittany whispered, “but I don’t think I’m warm enough.”

Santana, who had gotten over her initial surprise, shook her head. “You’re warm enough,” she assured Brittany.

Brittany just giggled before whispering, “Yeah, well, I like this.”

Santana nodded. “I like this, too,” she whispered back.

They tugged the blanket closer to their bodies. Brittany rested her head on Santana’s bony shoulder. Santana took a swift glance at her friend before directing her gaze back to the washing machine. Then with a soft sigh, she tilted her head until it was resting against Brittany’s.

As she waited for the alarm to go off, she couldn’t help but think that, all in all, this was a good day.


End file.
